Sticking My Turtleneck Out

FASHIONISTO BAMBINO

I’ll Wear Just About Anything … 

That Looks Good On A Well-Attired Mannequin.

My Styling & Profiling Muses Have All Been Rather Stoic Looking Dudes Loitering In Finer Men’s Stores.

Gender Non-Binary In The Under Carriage – Anatomically Wanting, Perhaps? – Plasticky Exoskeleton.

ROLL BACK, BOUNCE BACK

Like It’s 1979 … 

“Yeah, I Know Aging Happens To Some Mortals.  Like ‘Living Old’ (Frame Of Mind) Is A Personal Choice, And Not My Problem.  Acting And Dressing Like It, Also Not My Problem.”

Which Is Why Its Taken Only Four Decades For Me To Wear Another Turtleneck Sweater.

The First Was A Christmas Gift (Love, Mom).  Grey, Ribbed Knit, And More Grey Than Grey Had A Right To Be …  But, That’s Just Grey Now, Isn’t It?  The Current Beauty Was Also A Yuletide Present (Love, The Ragazzi, Uno e Due).  Creamy, Chunky Cable Knit, Dreamy.  Getting Irish’y, Are We Now, Seamus?  Grá … 

IN THE INTERIM BETWEEN THEN AND NOW

There Was The Boy-To-Mere-Mortal-Man Metamorphosis: An Unfinishable Task Without An Expiration Date … Eternity Can Take Awhile.

Who Can Possibly Forget The Pesky Marital Unholy Sitch?: A Strictly Enforced Prenuptial Agreement Legally Prohibiting Me From Wearing Turtlenecks Until It Wasn’t (Freedom From Fashion Emasculation Is So Liberating … I Can Dress Myself, Thank You) – Her Thing Dontcha Know, I Ditten – Meaning, Never Could There Be Two Turtlenecks Occupying The Same Celestial Space.

“Also, My Aversion To Beige, Which Is Therapy-Resistant.  Yarn.  Knitted Stuff.”

An Unwavering Commitment To Exposing Adams Apples For What They Really Are, And Never Again, Being Fooled By The Crying Game.

I’LL LIKELY NEVER …

Knit My Own Turtleneck … Or, Wear One Cropped-Above-The-Midriff (Because Of The Creepy Ew Factor).

Wear One Under A Corduroy Blazer With Elbow Patches.  Tweed, Yep.  You Know I Would.

“Or, With Khaki Cargo Shorts From Old Navy.  Lederhosen?  Yes, Because Exceptions Happen At Oktoberfest.”

… At The Beach.  If Its Frozen.  And, There’s A Bonfire.  Music.  Dancing On The Sand.  Marshmallows Flambe’ing Into Blackened Sugary Firebombs.  And, Libations Quaffed From A Silver Flask Encased In Burgundy Pleather, Or A Faux Sheepskin Horn-Shaped Decanter … Once The Must-Have Accessory To Every Sherpa Guide, Nordic Cross-Country Trekker, And Guys Names Kent Or Curtis (Not Curt).

FIDDY SHADES OF OATMEAL

Rocking Beige Turtlenecks That Tickle The Bottoms Of Pretty Earlobes Meant For Nibbling … 

Has Never Been Easier.

When Oatmeal Hues Are Fused With Hints Of Straw, Linen And Biscuit.

… Like You’re Doing Taupe A Favor.

Photo by Kaboompics from Pexels

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